Warehouse 13: (Part V) Someday arrived
by A Rhea King
Summary: Evil Pete has found a way to get to Pete, but can the evil jinn really outsmart him?
1. Chapter 1

**Warehouse 13**  
**Someday Arrived**

By A. Rhea King

_Chapter 1_

* * *

**Genna's house**  
**Univille, SD**

Genna came home to a quiet house. In the west, the evening sun was sinking slowly under the horizon and had lit the clouds with pinks, reds, and oranges. It did nothing for the heat. She dropped her briefcase in the nearest chair and unfastened her suit jacket as she kicked off her shoes. She paused for a moment, staring at the shoes. She could remember a time that covering feet was only considered when the weather cooled. She had started life millennia ago, in the land that had once been the kingdom of Prussia, and before that had no name. There the winters could not compare to the winter months in South Dakota, but it cooled enough to add another skin and wrap on feet coverings.

She smiled, kicking the high heels away and headed into the bedroom to change into shorts and a tank top. Walking into the room, she tossed her jacket on a chair and sat down on the bed. She reached back to unfasten her skirt when she felt hot air on the back of her neck. She froze, only moving her eyes to look to her left where it came from.

"No one else was the one," a familiar voice said behind her. "That. Leaves only. You, Genna."

She turned at the waist, staring at Evil Pete's lunatic grin. It broadened. She lunged for the door, sliding to a stop on the rug when Evil Myka almost glided into the door. She felt the hot breath on her neck again and hands on her arms.

"Are you the one, Genna?" he whispered in her ear.

Evil Myka reached out and pushed her hand against Genna's chest…

**Hong Kong International Airport**  
**Hong Kong, JP**

Their digital devices distracted each Myka and Pete. Myka was watching a video of her niece's recital. Pete was into playing Dead Trigger on his tablet, killing zombies, and collecting the spoils of video game created death and destruction. Passengers hurried past were the two waited, going to or from flights.

"American flight 2373 will board in 10 minutes," the intercom woman told the terminal.

In synchronization, the two put their devices away and got up, gathering their carry-on bag and coats. They headed for the gate.

Myka looked at her phone when it beeped. "Artie got the crate with the Dynasty plate."

"I told him I had mad packing skills," Pete joked.

"He was more concerned about your inability to figure out how to fill out the tariff forms," she told him.

"That's why you did them."

She smiled.

They stepped into the line of people waiting to board American Airlines 2373. Pete suddenly had a strong sense that something was wrong. He felt panicked and afraid – and he realized he was not the one feeling this, Genna was. Suddenly he felt something burning his chest. He grabbed at it and almost fell over.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head as he staggered to an empty nearby seat. He could barely catch his breath. Myka sat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. He knew she didn't know how to help or what to do. He closed his eyes tight, wanting to scream from the searing pain, but he wanted to scream but this was not the place to let that kind of emotion out.

"What's wrong, Pete? Does it feel like a heart attack?"

"I feel like I'm being burned by fire."

Myka fumbled to find her cell phone and dialed. "Artie, go check on Genna." She shook her head. "Pete feel like he's being burned. Go check on Genna." She looked up, watching the flight starting to board. "I gotta go. Text me." She put the phone back in her bag. "Pete, we gotta get on this plane. I don't think being in a hospital in Hong Kong is a good idea, considering. Can you walk?"

He nodded, sucking it in. He got up and the two followed the line onto the plane.

"Take the window," Myka ordered.

Pete slid in to the window seat and leaned against the side of the plane, clutching his chest. Myka put their bags in the overhead and sat down next to him, taking his hand.

"Better? Worse?"

"It's not as intense. But I feel like…"

"Like what?"

He looked at her. "Someone's beating her and it's bad. I feel every hit." He closed his eyes, holding in the screams he wanted to erupt with from each hit.

Myka didn't have any advice. If something had happened to Genna, all she could do was wait.

**Genna's house**  
**Univille, SD**

Artie stopped his car outside Genna's house. He and Steve stared at the dark house.

"She should be home now," Artie said, checking his watch. "She always tells Pete when she won't be home."

The two got out and walked up to the front door. They stopped, noticing the door was cracked open. Artie tapped it with his fingers and stepped inside.

"Genna?" he called.

They waited for an answer.

"I'll check around back," Steve told him.

Artie nodded.

"Genna, are you here?" Artie asked.

He turned on a light and stopped. The house was a wreck. Things were broken. There was a dark scorch mark against one wall in the shape of a hand. Artie walked up to it.

His heart leapt into his throat when Steve started talking behind him. "Artie, there's blood on the porch."

Artie dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. "I need to report a kidnapping and possible murder."


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

* * *

**American Airline 2373**  
**Somewhere over Europe**

Myka returned with a wet cloth and pressed it against Pete's forehead. She glanced up when a flight attendant stopped by her.

"How is he feeling?"

"As best as you can with food poisoning."

"Let us know if you need anything else."

Myka nodded.

She turned back to Pete. He passed out but he had a fever now. She glanced around her to make sure no one saw her and pulled out her Farnsworth. She opened the cover and pushed a button. Artie almost immediately appeared.

"Genna is gone," Artie quietly said.

"What?"

"Genna is missing. There was a struggle at her house and we found blood."

"Who would have kidnapped her?"

"I don't know. So far there's been no ransom and the police are asking a lot of questions."

"The police are there?"

Artie nodded. "It looks like a botched kidnapping, so for now, yes. How is he?"

"He passed out but he has a fever."

"Keep him comfortable. Doctor Wagner said keep up that he has food poisoning, and she's keeping the CDC away."

"Thanks. I'll tell him when he wakes up."

"No. Don't tell him anything right now."

"But he—"

"Not right now, Myka."

"Okay. For now, okay."

She closed the lid and focused on Pete. She dabbed his face with the cloth.

**Genna's world**

"Pete," he heard Genna say, and felt her hand on his arm.

He opened his eyes. She knelt next to him. There was light shining from above but it wasn't steady. It fluctuated like a florescent light about to go out. He sat up, looking at the darkness around them.

"Why is it so hot in here?"

Genna threw her arms around him, holding on tight. Pete held her.

"I'm burning to death. It hurts."

"I'm not feeling it."

She looked at him. "He said you wouldn't. He knows how to keep you from feeling it. He said I was the one but…"

"He who?"

"Evil Pete."

Pete stared wide-eyed at her. "Evil Pete… Has you?"

She nodded.

"No."

Pete held her tighter. "Where are you?"

She closed her eyes, laying her head on his shoulder. "I don't know. Don't leave me, Pete. These is the only place it doesn't hurt. Please…"

Pete pressed his face into her hair. "I'm not going anywhere, honey. I'm right here."

**American Airline 2373**  
**Somewhere over Europe**

Myka returned to her seat with a fresh cloth and cup of ice. She folded the ice in the cloth and dabbed Pete's face and neck.

"Does he need a blanket?"

Myka turned. A woman stood behind her holding out a blanket.

"Not right now. Thank you."

"I had food poisoning once. It was horrible. I can't imagine having to travel with it."

Myka offered a smile. The woman went back to her seat. As the other passengers had learned that Pete had 'food poisoning' they had become helpful, offering coats, pillows, blankets, medications, and advise. Some had been making sure Myka was taken care of by bringing her meals and making sure she had drinks. Any other day, Myka would be touched by the human kindness she was experiencing.

She had already seen what happened to Pete when Genna was seriously injured and ill. Her only concern was Pete, and that kindness was lost on her right now. Myka leaned over the seat arm, close enough to whisper to Pete.

"Where are you, Pete?"

He didn't answer or wake up. She rested her forehead against his damp shoulder. What was wrong with Genna? Why hadn't Artie called her with an update?

**Genna's house**  
**Univille, SD**

Claudia led Abigail and Steve up to the back door. Wearing gloves and using a surgical blade, she cut through the police tape and let them into Genna's house. The three walked into the hot house, looking at the mess in the kitchen.

"What are we looking for?" Abigail asked.

"A clue as to who took Genna, why, and where," Claudia told her.

The three fanned out and began combing through the house for evidence. Steve returned to the spot he had found Artie at the day before. He stared at the handprint - there was something so familiar about it. Something that made his neck and arm hurt just looking at it. Realization hit him suddenly.

"Evil Myka," Steve said.

"What?" Claudia said.

Steve shook his head slowly. "Evil Myka was here. This handprint is from her burning the wall."

"And who is Evil Myka?" someone asked – someone not from the Warehouse.

Steve turned, staring at the Univille police officer blocking the front door.

"I'm sorry?" Steve asked.

"Who are you talking to?" Abigail asked.

"A police officer. From Univille," Steve told her and Claudia.

The two appeared, standing behind him. The officer looked at each of them, as if he wasn't sure if he should shoot first or ask questions now.

"Who is Evil Myka?" the officer repeated.

"Someone we've all had a run in with. She likes to set things on fire," Steve told him.

The man looked at the handprint, and then Steve. Nope. He wasn't buying it.

"This house was closed, which means you're tampering with an active crime scene."

Steve flashed his badge. He hoped throwing his weight around would get the man to leave. "ATF has some authority still, last I checked."

The man's open distrust of Steve grew "Really? This is a kidnapping and possible homicide. Exactly what does the ATF have to do with something like that?"

"She was working with us," Claudia told him.

"At the plastics plant? A place that puts out plastic parts, molds, and wind turbine blades?"

"Yes," the three answered.

"Get out," he ordered.

"We have to find Genna," Claudia insisted. "We have to figure out why she was kidnapped and by who."

"Why is it so important to you?" he demanded.

The three didn't answer right away. Abigail sighed and walked to the front of the group. "Her foster father is on a plane from Hong Kong right now. He doesn't know she's missing or that there may be foul play. He works for the Secret Service and when he gets here… He's going to be in your office, causing a scene, because she's his little girl. Can you understand that? Can you understand what it's like to be a father and have your little girl go missing? We're not trying to cause problems, sir. We just need to help him so he doesn't decided to take the law into his own hands. Can't you let us do that much?"

The man put his hands on his utility belt, judging them.

"I'm going to go get a coffee. When I get back, you three had best be gone, and the doors locked and closed. If anything and I mean anything, is disturbed, being ATF, or anything else, will not stop me from arresting everyone and holding you until I get answers. And if you find anything about who may have taken this woman, you will turn it over to the police. You have exactly 30 minutes."

He walked back out of the house. The three stood for a minute.

"We have twenty-nine minutes. Make it count," Abigail told the two as she jogged past toward the back of the house.

The search for answers turned into a fire drill.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

* * *

**Genna's world**

It was so hot that every time Pete opened his eyes he expected flames, steam, or something. Instead, there was just humid heat that was relentless.

"Genna," Pete said.

"Hm?" she murmured.

She had moved onto his lap, curling into a tight ball. Her arms clung weakly around his neck with her head tucked under his chin.

"Wake up. Stay awake."

She didn't respond. Pete closed his eyes a moment. He felt a blast of heat on his back and cringed.

"Isn't this just sweet?" he heard someone say next to his ear, feeling hot breath waft across his skin.

Pete opened his eyes, looking up at Evil Pete's lunatic grin. Evil Pete crouched next to him, his white hands with their ugly fingernails curled in front of his knees. He wore an all-black tuxedo that was singed and had burn holes. His position and expression made Pete think of pictures of a velociraptor.

"What do you want?" Pete growled.

Evil Pete laughed. "What do I want? Why, my soon to be free weaker half, I want you." He leaned in. "I would have thought that would have been obvious by now. You've talked enough to the Circle in the last few months."

"With Genna. What do you want with her?"

"Her?" Evil Pete flopped a hand over, pointing at her. "Oh. I want her dead."

Pete pulled her closer, as if somehow that would protect her from him. "If you kill her, you'll never get what you want."

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" Evil Pete chuckled. "You think I'm killing her to persuade you to come to the dark side, as all those crazy kids say these days. You, Pete, haven't any idea what's happening, do you?" Evil Pete leaned toward Genna. "He really doesn't, dearie."

"Then tell me."

Evil Pete moved fast, pulling Genna away. She was too weak to fight or hold herself up and flopped like a rag doll in his arms. Pete tried to get up but found he wasn't strong enough to move. He watched helplessly as Evil Pete waltzed around him with Genna.

"Genna's going to die, and then there will be nothing to protect you, Pete." Evil Pete dipped her, looking at Pete. "Then you and I, we'll have fun killing every living thing on this planet. Then we'll find another planet to do it all over again. It'll be fun!" Evil Pete looked at Genna. "Sorry, dearie, you'll have to miss the fun."

"You can't break our bond," Pete told him. "No one can."

"No one," Evil Pete told him as he waltzed again. "Except, of course, something made by the thing that makes genies. We can break the bond. And when their mortal like this…" Evil Pete stopped, running his hand down her face. She turned her head away. "Well, that makes the killing so much easier, doesn't it, dearie?" Evil Pete let her go, stepping over her as she sank to the ground. He walked over to Pete, crouching down. "You know that car insurance commercial about chaos? I just thought of a good tag line for me on it. I'm chaos, and your insurance will never protect you against me. What do you think, Pete, old pal, old buddy?" Evil Pete fist bumped his shoulder.

"You're an asshole."

Evil Pete stood, twirling so his coat tails whirled out. He stopped, watching Pete.

"Maybe so. But what I do know is that you won't be you for very much longer. Enjoy your flight Pete. I'll be along for you _shortly_." Evil Pete winked and vanished.

Pete crawled to Genna and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Pete," she whispered.

"Don't talk."

"Pete, you have to protect our family."

"Shhh. Just relax, Genna."

She laid a hand on his neck, looking into his eyes. "I will in a minute. There is one way to keep him from using you." She reached up and ran her hand down the side of his face. "And you won't like it."

"I'm not committing suicide. I can't do that."

"No. But it might feel like it."

He caught her hand, holding it. "Tell me."

She tilted her head so she could whisper to him.

**American Airline 2373**  
**Somewhere over the Atlantic**

Pete was startled awake by what she said. He looked up. He was still on the plane and Myka was gone. He covered his face with his hands and forced himself to stay together. Now was not the time to break down. He couldn't grieve losing Genna now. There was too much to do.

"Pete?" Myka said.

He looked up, watching her sit down beside him. She handed him a wet cloth. Pete put it on the back of his neck, leaning against the side of the plane.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I need the restroom."

"Pete—"

"Bad."

She got up and let him out. Pete handed her the cloth and walked back to the restroom. He locked the door behind him and splashed water on his face. A few tears were too powerful to hold back, but he managed to get a grip on himself. Pete looked at himself in the mirror.

"I love you too," Pete whispered. "I wish I could have said that, Gen."

Pete stood, drew in a slow deep breath, and headed back to his seat. He passed a man writing on a notepad and stopped, turning back to him.

"Could I buy some paper off you?" Pete asked, reaching around for his wallet.

The man looked up at him. "You were the one with food poisoning. How are you feeling?"

"Better. Last time I eat at a place that looks like they buy from the local pound."

The man smiled. He tore several sheets off and handed them to Pete. "On the house."

"Thank you."

Pete returned to his seat. Myka sat down next to him, watching him. He folded the table in front of him down and retrieved a pen from his jacket pocket.

"Are you okay?" she asked

"Yeah."

"We'll be in Chicago in four more hours. Should Artie send a helicopter for us?"

"We can fly home. Besides, my SUV is in Rapid City. I'd kind of like to get it."

"Are you sure? The pain could start at any time."

He smiled at her. "I'm sure."

She didn't look convinced. "You're acting strange, Pete."

"Strange? How?"

"I don't know… You're really calm."

"Why wouldn't I be calm? Is there something wrong with the plane?"

"You were just… Do you remember what just happened?"

"I fell asleep."

Myka hesitated. She smiled. "Yeah. That's what happened. I'll be back in a minute."

She got up and walked away. Pete's smile faded. He inhaled, exhaled, and began writing.

**Bed & Breakfast**  
**South Dakota**

Abigail looked up and stared. Steve and Claudia didn't see Artie standing in the doorway. They were going over the police file again, hoping for a clue about who took Genna and why. Artie cleared his throat and they looked up.

"Artie?" Claudia said, standing.

Artie swallowed. "Genna's body was found in Riverton, Wyoming, on the Wind River Reservation." He took off his glasses to dry his eyes. "She had been burned to death by steam. They identified her with DNA and, uhm, there was no sign of, uhm, she hadn't been…" Artie sat down. "Pete doesn't know yet. I asked Myka to let him get home and then I'd tell him."

Steve sat up. "I don't mean to be crass, Artie, but… Pete's still alive?"

Artie nodded.

"How?"

Artie looked up at him, then Claudia and Abigail. "I have no idea. But he's alive and Myka said he's acting as if nothing happened. He came to and started writing his report. They won't be back until two in the morning so…" Artie rubbed his face. "I'll talk to him in the morning. If anyone sees him before me, say nothing. He's not going to take this well."

"Maybe I should talk to him," Abigail offered.

"No. I need to do this. It's in my job description, Abigail."

"If you think I should after you do…"

"Thank you. I'll let you know."

The four fell into a silence. Pete and Myka were still another nine hours from home, sitting in Chicago most likely, and there was nothing they could do but wait to help Pete pick up the pieces from losing his surrogate daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

* * *

**Warehouse 13**  
**South Dakota**

Pete parked the SUV and stared at the Warehouse. A scream only he heard made him turn his head, watching the sky. He looked at Myka.

She had fallen asleep almost as soon as they'd gotten on the highway. He mused how peaceful she looked, not knowing that he already knew Genna was dead and that he had to do something he was reluctant to do.

Pete reached inside his coat and pulled out a piece of paper. He folded it and slid it into her coat pocket. He moved his hand up to lay it gently on her head. Pete leaned across the middle console, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

"I'm sorry, Mykes," Pete whispered.

Pete turned off the dome light so the door opening wouldn't turn it on. Pete pulled out the keys out and quietly placed them in the cup holder. Then he slipped out of the SUV, silently shut the door, and headed inside.

He found Claudia asleep at her computer in the office.

Pete walked into the back of the office and came back with two devices the size and look of hockey pucks. He stopped and crouched next to Claudia. He pushed her bangs back, smiling at her. When a tear slid down his cheek, Pete let it.

He whispered to her, "I expect you to find some crazy, thirteenth hour solution, Claudia. Don't let me down."

He slipped out of the office and down the stairs. Silently he made his way to Artie's bedroom. Pete walked up to the bed and pulled out a piece of paper. He folded it into a tent and sat it over Artie's glasses.

In large letters the note read: DON'T PANIC –PETE, followed by smaller letters: Myka's note explains everything.

He paused, watching his boss sleep. Having nothing enlightening to tell Artie in his sleep, Pete slipped silently away.

#

Pete walked into the bronze section. He stopped, listening to the screaming. It was closer and sounded like wind going through a pipe. It was still too far away to make out what the scream was saying. He walked around to the back of the bronze chamber and climbed up to the top. He pulled out one of the hockey pucks. He tapped the surface and a keypad and LCD screen with glowing red letters appeared. He entered eight and started the timer. He slapped the puck onto the top of the chamber, and then slid back to the floor. He walked over to the console and woke it up. Pete set up a bronze session. The machinery behind the chamber whirred to life. The door of the chamber slid open. Pete set it to begin bronzing in one minute. He pulled out the second hockey puck and entered five, then slapped it onto the controls. His finger stopped, shaking as it hovered over the cancel button. Pete closed his eyes, feeling his will teetering.

The scream tore through his concentration. He realized it was his name being screamed. Pete looked up at the ceiling. He let a few tears fall and pulled himself together. He walked into the bronze chamber and turned to face the Warehouse. He drew in a long, deep breath. With his will and courage back in place, Pete took off his coat and suit jacket. He tossed them out. He stood for a few seconds and grinned. He stripped down to his underwear.

"I could be here awhile. May as well get comfortable," Pete told the Warehouse.

An alarm went off and the chamber door slid shut. The chamber filled with steam. The countdown to complete the process began. It finished one minute and twenty seconds ahead of the hockey puck timer on the controls.

#

An explosion ripped Artie out of his sleep. He scrambled out of bed and fumbled for his glasses, smashing the tent paper over them. Another explosion reverberated through the Warehouse. Artie pulled on his glasses, looking down at the paper as it fell. He snatched it up, reading the message.

"What did you do?" Artie gasped.

He grabbed the Farnsworth next to his bed when it started buzzing. He flipped it open, finding Claudia. Artie wrestled to put on shoes.

"What's going on?" she asked. "I just heard two explosions. What's happening?"

"Find out where they came from."

Claudia turned away and he heard her typing. "The bronze section."

"Find Myka."

"Did she—"

"Just do it!" Artie slapped the Farnsworth shut and ran across the Warehouse.

Artie began coming across debris, followed by smoke that was clearing from the bronze section. Then the bronzer was in view. He stopped, staring at the destruction. The control panel was in pieces and of the chamber was in ribbons of metal. Steam poured from one of the ruptured pipes and water gushed from another.

Pete stood at the bottom of the steps, staring at whoever was inside the chamber.

"Pete, what have you done?" Artie asked Pete.

Pete's head cocked to the side. He turned it just slightly. These actions told Artie something was very, very wrong with Pete.

"Fix it," he told Artie, pointing at the control panel.

"You destroyed it! I can't fix it! Why? Why did you do this, Pete?"

"Fix it, Artie," Pete ordered.

Artie hesitated. What was wrong with Pete? He could see for himself that he had destroyed the bronzer. Why was he being so insistent about Artie fixing it? Had Evil Pete found him and possessed him already?

More quietly Artie told him, "The bronzer is destroyed, Pete. And explain this note. What is in Myka's note?"

Pete condensed to a cloud that rushed up on Artie and formed back into Pete right before him. Artie stared at Evil Pete's lunatic grin, black eyes, white skin with black veins. Very slowly, he took his eyes off Evil Pete and looked at the bronzed person in the chamber. The person was his agent Pete, the one who couldn't keep his hands off artifacts and caused trouble, the one who saved genies, and loved pop culture. The one who never would have done this if he didn't have a damn good reason.

"Artie," Myka said from behind him.

"Fix. It." Evil Pete ordered.

"I can't," Artie growled. "Pete destroyed it and something tells me that is stopping you from using him to destroy the planet. Kind of sucks to be you, doesn't it?"

Evil Pete moved in on Artie. He grabbed his face between his hands in a painful squeeze.

"Fix the bronzer, Artie, or I will squeeze you like a tomato."

"I can't fix it instantaneously, do you understand?" Artie insisted. "There is no way to fix it like that!"

"With all the artifacts here, you're telling me you cannot just fix it? I don't believe you."

"Too bad! It's the truth. If it were that simple, Pete never would have bothered destroying it. How does it feel to be outsmarted by your good side?"

Evil Pete growled. It was a frightening sound, like a hungry lion. He shoved Artie away, turned back to a cloud and shot up overhead. Artie stared. There was a huge cloud mass overhead. Were these all the evil souls that Pete had released? The mass moved up, disappearing behind the lights of the Warehouse. He heard someone walk behind him. Myka walked up the three short steps to Pete, staring at him. He heard a soft sob and turned his head. Claudia stood behind him, crying. He looked back at Myka.

"Pete said you have a letter, Myka."

She pulled the paper from her pocket and handed it to him, not taking her eyes off her partner. "I knew there was something wrong," Myka told him. "He acted like nothing happen; as if he didn't know she was dead. He made me believe it…"

"He didn't want you or any of us to stop him." Artie unfolded it and began reading.

"What does it say?" Claudia asked.

He was half-way through the letter and almost fell trying to sit down. Claudia walked up and knelt next to him.

Quieter she repeated, "What does it say, Artie?"

Artie smeared a rebel tear across his cheek and began reading. "Myka, please read this to everyone. Help them understand. I'm sorry I had to handle things this way. That evil thing we call Evil Pete, he kidnapped Genna and he found a way to break our bond. He murdered her, and I think it was because she somehow stood between him using me to destroy the world. We already know these things like destruction for the sake of destruction. You know I never would have come up with a way to stop him, so I did the next best thing. I bronzed myself and destroyed it so he can't get to me. Artie, please don't be too angry about the mess I made and the whole blowing up the bronzer. I love you guys too much to let that thing use me to hurt you and you of all people, Artie and Claudia, should understand that after. You've used artifacts to save all of us; I'm using the bronzer to save all of you." Artie's voice cracked. "H.G. told me once that when she was bronzed she could hear people and felt people touch her sometimes. Please keep me company, guys. Maybe put a radio or TV nearby? I need a favor too. Someone has to explain this to my mother. She'll worry and she will probably try living at the warehouse. Artie, Regent or not, you can't let her do that. Make her get on with life and convince her this is just a moment, not forever. I know you guys just need time to figure this out and I have given you all the time you need. I have faith in you guys and I'll miss you. Your best yard ornament ever, Pete."

The gravity of the situation quashed Pete's attempt of humor. Artie crushed the letter in his fist, letting the tears go. Claudia moved to a chair, staring at the floor.

That was how Abigail and Steve found them.

"Who bronzed Pete?" Steve asked. "Who blew up the bronzer?"

"Pete did." Myka answered barely loud enough to be heard. She stepped into the chamber with him, hugging Pete. She didn't want the others to see her tears

"He did it to," Artie added. "To keep Evil Pete from getting to him. To… Protect us."

Abigail sat on the stairs next to Artie.

Steve sat down next to the fence, staring at Pete and Myka.

* * *

People protect what they love.

—_Jacques Yves Cousteau_

* * *

_The End_


End file.
